Just Dinner
by pillowperson
Summary: Germany tries his best to patch things up with his friend after the events of Buon San Valentino by treating him to dinner. However, his romantic feelings for Italy may cause the evening to flop. (Rating is subject to change in later chapters)


So this is my first story that I've published on here... I know it isn't the best, but I hope you all enjoy it! Feedback is welcome, just be gentle please :). Also please tell me if the formatting ever looks bad, or needs to be changed so I can fix it (I'm really new to this). Thanks for reading!

-Mads (pillowperson)

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 _Chapter 1_

Germany was always the calm and collected one.

He was the one who could create a plan and execute it fully no matter what was thrown his way, as he had shown in tough situations- even battle- numerous times.

So why was simply cooking for someone as carefree as Italy making the stoic German so flustered? He was a soldier for God's sake, why couldn't he just get it together enough to last the evening?

Maybe it was because the copper-haired Italian made him forget his hard demeanor and let himself feel the swirl of new emotions-which were usually being buried deep in his head- that came with loving someone. Either that or, because the last time Germany had tried wooing Italy, it ended in disaster leaving himself deeply embarrassed, confused, and now undoubtedly in love with him. The entire Valentine's Day fiasco had been a simple misunderstanding, but the feelings had been very real and only multiplied after the incident. Germany had followed a guide book on courting a partner (it was written by other Germans so it was obviously not very helpful or effective in any way) after misinterpreting a bouquet of roses Italy had given to him on the day dedicated to love.

The night ended awkwardly at the restaurant and the pair kept their distance in the following months. No more random acts of affection from the small Italian, no waking to him half naked in the German's bed in the morning (he hadn't been sleeping as well without the other warm body next to him) and no bringing pasta for lunch during breaks in training.

If Germany was being honest with himself, he missed it. But the rational side of him knew that it was for the best. Italy had not returned his affections in a romantic sense, so the distance allowed him to be comfortable and kept the new feelings at bay (well, mostly) for the German.

But now Germany had gone and invited him over for dinner.

 _It's just dinner,_ He told himself, _nothing more._

He extended the offer earlier that day, after a normally unproductive training session. It was just him and Italy, with Japan busy in important meetings for the day. They carried on training as usual with the iron-fisted German barking orders at the lazy Italian. They had ended it early, however, due to the looming clouds that threatened to rain on them at any moment.

While they were walking back across the track, Italy began chatting about his brother- a safe topic of conversation for the awkward pair.

"He's in another one of his moods again today, the third one this week! Usually they are more spread out and I can just take it until he gets tired and just goes to sleep but this one seems especially bad and kinda scary! But, he's my fratello, so I mean what are you gonna do? He's a lot meaner and moodier than my other big brothers but I still love him. I just wish I didn't really have to go home to him when he's like this."

"You could stay with me."

The German's face immediately tinted an embarrassing shade of pink. He blamed the past night's fitful sleep for not catching the proposal before it was already extended. Italy just cast him a sideways glance, eyes widened in shock with his eyebrows raised in a questioning way. Germany's common sense finally kicked in and quickly stammered out corrections.

"I, er, meant you could come to my house for dinner if you would like." He said, keeping his gaze cast at the ground. "To keep you from going home to your brother while he's awake, at least."

"Oh, of course I will Germany! Yes he will be all tuckered out and hopefully in bed then maybe get a full night of sleep and not be so cranky tomorrow. You know I tell him to get more rest at night but he takes so many siestas during the day and I think that's why he gets in all these moods but he never listens and…" Italy continued to chatter on as he usually did but Germany was already back in his head.

Just what did he get himself into?

Stood in the middle of his immaculate kitchen-turned disaster, Germany was asking himself the same question. He was shaken from his thoughts, however, by the stew that was beginning to boil and spill over onto the stove. The blundering German all but jumped over to turn the heat down to its lowest setting. He let out a breath and retrieved an already dirtied rag to try and sop up the mess. His eyebrows knit in distress. Italy had been in his kitchen many times before; they've shared a bed for God's sake! Why was the one person who could work under pressure cracking for someone so care free?

 _Last time you tried this, you had instructions but that ended in a near-ruined friendship. Now you have no strategy but still will probably manage to make a mess of it._

 _Wait?_

 _What was he thinking; this is just dinner between friends. Nothing more._

Before Germany could dwell further on his thoughts, two solid bangs came from the other side of his front door before it swung open.

His fluttering heart all but stopped.

"Hey Germany! Man its cold outside for spring, didn't America's rat thing say spring would come early? In Italy, all the flowers are blooming and all the leaves are coming back but here…"

The German jumped, heart racing, before popping his head out of the kitchen and into the entry way to greet his guest.

" **Guten Abend** , Italy. I know I'm sorry about the weather, but I have a stew going which should warm you up."

Still removing his coat, the Italian gushed about how nice such a dinner sounded, giving a rosy-cheeked smile to Germany. The still flustered man felt his own face begin to redden, until he remembered the dinner almost burning in the kitchen.

"I'm just finishing up dinner, go ahead and make yourself at home." He said to the smaller man before rushing to stir the steaming pot, and put dinner rolls into the oven to warm.

Italy only laughed and walked into the living room where he bounced onto the couch, taking in his surroundings.

"Wow, it's been a while since I've been to your house, Germany!" he remarked, unknown to the grimace that crossed Germany's face in the kitchen. "Everything is still so clean and in order." The Italian then stood, and walked over to the bookshelves along the front of the living room, running his fingers over the spines of each book, all in alphabetical order.

"All of them are so serious," Italy said quietly to himself, "no adventure, science fiction, or even romance. You've been too serious lately…"

Germany finished up things in the kitchen, and stood in the doorway, meaning to tell his friend dinner was ready, but instead stopped to watch the copper-haired man gaze at the books along the wall in quiet wonder. The usually stoic man felt his throat tighten at the sight.

 _I missed him being here. I can't lose him again._

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 _Translations:_

 **Guten Abend** \- good evening


End file.
